


Hi, My Name Is...

by cathrheas



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/F, Names, and made it gay, i didnt like the lack of depth in catherine's backstory, so i did it myself, very little of the last one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21590446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrheas/pseuds/cathrheas
Summary: Catherine and Rhea become lovers. Neither of them are who they say they are.
Relationships: Catherine/Rhea (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	1. Cassandra

Rhea came up with the name “Catherine”. She said it represented purity, and although Catherine didn’t know much about the etymology of the name, she liked it. It was weird, getting used to people calling her by that name, but she eventually adjusted. 

It was Rhea’s voice that she kept in mind when she introduced herself. _What’s my name again,_ she’d think. Then she’d hear it, and remember: _How about “Catherine”? I’ve been told it means “purity”._

“I’m Catherine,” she’d say. “Nice to meet you.” And at first, she felt like she was lying her way out of something, because that _wasn’t_ her name, but Rhea kept saying it, until Catherine had a collection of little voice clips tucked away in her mind.

_Here is your mission for the month, Catherine._

_Catherine, could you please see me in my office?_

_Thank you for your hard work, Catherine._

_Welcome to the Knights of Seiros, Catherine._

* * *

Catherine didn’t hear the name Cassandra again until Christophe was executed. By then, she was absolved. At what cost, she could not say. What she could say was that it was strange, how being exonerated from a crime that had been weighing on her that long only made her feel worse. It was easy to grin and flash her sword in front of the other Knights, because none of them knew, none of them _really_ knew, who Christophe was. Or who Cassandra was.

But Rhea knew, and she saw the changes. A week after Christophe’s execution, Catherine was summoned to Rhea’s office, late in the evening. Catherine was already in bed. She’d been sleeping a lot. Shamir hadn’t pointed it out, but she had noticed, and she’d been popping by Catherine’s room more often, trying to get her out of bed with sparring and food. When Catherine was called to see Rhea, she assumed it was Shamir, trying to be helpful in her annoying way.

But, no. Rhea wanted something completely different. “Good evening, Lady Rhea. Is everything alright?”

“I have been meaning to ask you the same thing,” Rhea said.

“I’m better than ever.”

Rhea laughed, but it wasn’t genuine. “You say that every time I ask. Sometimes I wonder.”

Catherine hated when people asked her how she was feeling. Especially when she was feeling like shit. If she wasn’t feeling alright, she didn’t want to be asked about it, not even by Lady Rhea. “No need to wonder. I’m feeling great. If that was all, then—”

“Cassandra,” Rhea said, and Catherine’s knees buckled, and her hand went to her sword, and she could feel her heartbeat in her entire body. She’d worked too hard to swallow the bitter pill of an outlaw, but she felt like she was going to throw it up as soon as Rhea said that name. “It’s over now. I know it must be painful. I know that you and Christophe—”

“It doesn’t really matter. And, Lady Rhea, I really don’t mean to be rude, but if you could...” Catherine trailed off. Rhea waited for her to finish with kind, patient eyes. Catherine couldn’t say it unless she spat it out. “Please, don’t call me that.”

“I apologize. Since you were a student here, I can’t help but remember you as—and I thought that after all this time, you would—er...I apologize. I understand now why that would upset you.” No, she didn’t, and gods, Catherine loved her, but why was she so nice? It hurt. “I know this is all difficult for you. That is why I figured this talk should be had. Needless to say, due to Christophe’s execution, you are innocent of any charges against you. This is undoubtedly a double-edged sword, but you are welcome to return to Faerghus, now. To your old life. It will be hard, but if that is what you truly wish to do, then I want you to know that you have no obligation to me, or to the Knights. That is all.”

It was unexpected. Catherine had expected something preachy, but nothing like that. “Return to Faerghus?” Rhea had no response. She had pointed her eyes to her neatly clasped hands. “There’s...there’s nothing for me there. Even if they say I’m innocent now, who’s to say anybody will believe me? There’s no point.”

“Emotions are high at the moment. For everyone,” Rhea pointed out. “Of course, you are able to change your mind at any time. Please, think it over.”

Catherine chuckled. “Man, are you trying to kick me out so soon?”

“Nothing of the sort.” Rhea didn’t laugh. “But Christophe’s execution is very personal to you. I can understand why staying with the Knights would feel strange.”

Would it? Would Christophe hate her from the afterlife? That was a heavy thought, and Catherine hated those. She imagined Christophe in hell with a little pitchfork, ranting about how Catherine betrayed him for staying with the Knights. _Hey, buddy, I thought we were friends! What gives?!_ Yeah, that was kinda funny. Funny enough for Catherine to ignore the situation completely. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone now, isn’t he?” That sounded spiteful. Catherine had to go, fast. “Thanks, Lady Rhea. I’ll think about it, but I don’t think I’ll change my mind.”

“You will always have a home here, Catherine. Remember that,” Rhea said. “Even if you were to leave, we here at the monastery will welcome you back with open arms. And that certainly includes me.”

Catherine nodded and took her leave. That last bit, where Rhea said Catherine—Catherine heard it in her voice. Rhea was about to say something else. Someone else. Someone who had been replaced.

* * *

Catherine had become frighteningly good at ignoring things that spoiled her good mood, from the minor to the major. Christophe’s execution fell under the major. The _majorly_ major. But she pushed it down, deep down, where it could no longer choke her. She went to Rhea’s office to tell her what her decision was a mere two days after they first spoke. Rhea smiled, and held her hand, held her eyes for the longest time.

The next night, Catherine kissed Rhea.

It went further than she had expected it to. She had expected nothing more than a stern but loving rejection, but Rhea accepted her. At times, though, she felt pity in Rhea’s touch, and Catherine needed none of it. That night, they slept together, and Catherine was twice as aggressive than she should have been. _I’ve got it,_ she said, with her biting teeth and grabby hands. _I don’t need anyone to help me._

Rhea didn’t protest, letting Catherine have her way. Emotions _were_ high, Rhea was right. Catherine felt dizzy every time she lifted a limb. She found comfort between Rhea’s thighs, keeping her eyes shut just in case a tear decided to try and slip out. Rhea moaned so prettily. It felt good, tumbling headfirst into it. Catherine had fantasized plenty since she was a student there. She knew what to do the moment Rhea spread her legs. Like it was what she was meant to do.

When Rhea got close to finishing, Catherine felt a hand on her head. Rhea’s legs were wrapped around her head, and her ears were a bit smothered, but she could still hear it when Rhea came and cried out _Cassandra._

Catherine didn’t stop until Rhea had stopped shaking. Catherine lifted her head, then, wiping her mouth with her wrists. Rhea looked at her with solemn eyes. She knew what she’d done. Catherine knew it too. And yet, there was something that didn’t sting. A distinct absence of pain. “I apologize. For calling you that...I apologize,” Rhea said.

“It’s still my name,” Catherine said. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s up to you.”

Cassandra went to knight school, Cassandra grew up roughhousing with Christophe, Cassandra nearly died in Lady Rhea’s arms because she was too bold. Catherine went to the monastery because she had nowhere else to go, Catherine handed Christophe over to his killers, Catherine kissed Lady Rhea with no shame because both of her names sounded so beautiful coming from her and she wanted to taste them.

“You can call me Cassandra. But nobody else,” Catherine said. “Not until...not for a while.”

Rhea held Catherine close to her, whispered that name in her ear. It sounded like a song.


	2. Seiros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which rhea uses catherine for character development, like the exact opposite of the game

Rhea didn’t like Cassandra when she first met her.

She had these eyes, big and blue and innocent, that were always looking Rhea’s way. During the opening ceremony for Cassandra’s year, when they had all bowed their heads in prayer, Cassandra was looking up. Rhea was looking up, too. They made eye contact. Rhea had seen a few students before, over the years, who had been looking around during prayers, probably not praying at all, and a stern look from Rhea made them shut their eyes in shame.

But Cassandra didn’t look away.

Rhea stiffened a bit, surprised by the eye contact. She turned to her left, looked at Seteth, who was still fervently reciting the prayer. When she turned back to the students, Cassandra was picking at a scab on her elbow. Once she was satisfied, she looked up again, and they held the other’s gaze until Seteth finally finished.

Cassandra smiled at her. Rhea felt unnerved.

* * *

It was easy to forget about Cassandra after the opening ceremony. She was a troublemaker, and Seteth had many complaints about her, but he had complaints about everything, and she was getting better at ignoring them. Rhea didn’t want to come face to face with her. She was too honest, too...knowing? No. What could she know? How could she know? It was impossible. But, either way, Rhea had other things to think about, so she pushed Cassandra out of her mind.

And then, a month before Casssandra’s graduation, Rhea was forced to see her again.

Well, not _forced._ She could have looked the other way, if she had really wanted to, but Seteth said her name and Rhea couldn’t help being interested.

“One of the students—Cassandra—she’s injured,” Seteth said. “We have the most talented of our students working on healing her, but—”

“Cassandra?”

“Yes. She ran ahead of the rest of the class and got surrounded,” Seteth said. 

Rhea admired Seteth’s cool demeanor, but she was panicking. It was impossible to keep her students completely safe from dangerous situations, but she wasn’t keen on the idea of a monster hunt in the first place. Running into monsters for the sake of a fight? Of course someone like Cassandra would go overboard. It had been months since Rhea had spoken to Cassandra directly, but... “Show me where she is. I will take a look myself.”

Seteth and Rhea, flanked by a few knights, quickly walked deeper into the woods. As they approached, Rhea heard groaning, only getting louder and more pained. The students had moved her to a small clearing, but Rhea still saw defeated, gutted monsters mere feet away. She wondered if Cassandra had killed them all.

_Even if she had, what was it worth?_

Rhea swallowed down her apprehension as she came closer to Cassandra, kneeling by her. Three students were kneeled around Cassandra, fumbling with bandages and vulneraries. One of them was gripping a stave with pale, bloody knuckles. They seemed surprised to see Rhea, but most of all, they were terrified. They wouldn’t have been able to handle it themselves, surely. 

“Please, give me some space,” Rhea said. They gladly scattered, and Cassandra began to wail again, her arm curling to her chest. There were more wounds than Rhea could count. She was filthy, too; Rhea could tell which ones were fresh, which ones she had tried to fight through. Rhea hushed her, stroking her hair with one hand. She picked up the discarded stave with the other, and Cassandra whimpered. “Shh, shh. It will be alright. Hush.”

“It hurts, it hurts,” Cassandra whined, her voice slurred. She had screwed her eyes shut, but she just _had_ to open them, had to look at Rhea as she cried.

It had been a long time since Rhea had to look danger in the eyes like that. Decades, probably, since she’d seen that much blood. She tried not to lose herself, tried to call up that old sense of emptiness that she had often forced herself into. But Cassandra was crying out too loud. Before she knew it, Rhea felt tears welling up in her eyes, too. She prayed Cassandra didn’t see them.

“I’m here. Don’t worry,” Rhea insisted. She kept her focus on healing Cassandra, spreading magic over every gash. It was really a wonder Cassandra hadn’t died by then. She was crying, but she was fighting.

“Saint...” Rhea froze. Cassandra met her eyes again, and for a moment, she seemed completely fine, but Rhea knew she was imagining it. “Saint Seiros?”

What? Rhea was beside herself. She looked behind her, trying to see if anyone had heard Cassandra. Seteth and the other students had stepped back, out of earshot. Even then, why would Rhea tell the truth? “...No. It’s Archbishop Rhea.”

Cassandra tensed again. “I-I don’t wanna die...don’t let me die...please, S-Saint Seiros—”

_Please, don’t say anything else. Don’t speak._ “You won’t. Quiet, now.”

Cassandra’s eyes fell shut and her breathing got heavier. Rhea quickly finished up, placing bandages over the smaller injuries and tilting potions to Cassandra’s lips until she drank them down. By the end of it all, Rhea didn’t feel like herself anymore. She felt uncomfortable, like someone else was inside of her and she couldn’t force them out.

Cassandra had went completely silent.

“Cassandra? Are you there?” She gave a weak groan in response. Good. Rhea was happy she was alive, but happy she wasn’t talking—what other insane things would she say, if given the chance? Rhea picked Cassandra up off the ground, conveniently muffling Cassandra so that anything else she said would go unheard. Seteth reached out for her, but Rhea didn’t hand her over.

Suddenly, she had become protective.

* * *

Cassandra graduated. And then, five years later, she returned as Catherine.

Rhea chose the name. Catherine took to it immediately, but something didn’t sit right. Rhea still wanted to call her Cassandra. And, despite the fear it brought her the first time, she wanted Catherine to call her Seiros.

Catherine didn’t say anything about that night in the woods, so Rhea didn't either, but there was a part of her that wanted to ask. Wanted to ask why Catherine knew, if she even remembered. But Catherine was sensitive, at the time she returned, and things only got worse for her in the coming months. Rhea was surprised when Catherine kissed her, and came out with her confession. She wasn’t overly verbose or romantic, and Rhea got the point straight away.

_Lady Rhea, I love you._

It was bittersweet. Rhea had come to adore her, come to care for her. Even in those five years before Catherine returned to the monastery, Rhea thought about her and her fighting spirit...and when she came back six inches taller and just a little calmer, Rhea didn’t know what to think.

But when Catherine kissed her, she kissed back.

The first few weeks of their relationship were bumpy. Catherine struggled with her identity, with her place at the monastery, her place in Rhea’s arms. And again, Rhea felt the need to soothe her, but sometimes, Catherine picked herself back up, and Rhea felt proud of her. 

Catherine was, above all, honest. She didn’t hide herself anymore. She made it clear what she felt for Rhea, but she also made it clear what Faerghus meant to her, what Christophe meant to her. She talked about the things she had to live with, how she coped with them. Rhea always listened, and helped when she could.

Not once did Catherine bring up the monster hunt, but the months passed, and as they got more comfortable with each other, Rhea started to feel uneasy. Maybe her feelings weren’t as strong as Catherine’s, at first—that, she had come to terms with. But Catherine grew on her. Her loyalty, her humor, the intensity of her gaze even when they were looking at each other for a split second. Rhea found herself fretting when she was by herself, wondering if it was unfair to lie to Catherine, someone who was so earnest that she couldn’t help pouring her heart out.

_And she doesn’t even know my real name._

It was necessary, Rhea thought. She’d lied to many people, made up many things, and looked them in the face and smiled when she did it. But Catherine was different. Rhea thought again about that night in the woods, when Catherine was going to die in her arms...she’d seen it happen. She’d watched the life fade out of people inches away from her feet, and she watched it with a straight face. 

Then Catherine would smile at her, and then she’d want to tell her everything.

The monster hunt. Rhea decided to start there. Worst case, Catherine didn’t remember, and Rhea had to think of another way to broach the subject. Best case, Catherine _did_ remember, and she somehow knew who Rhea was, and she didn’t hate Rhea for lying.

_Think about the best outcome,_ Rhea repeated to herself, even moving her lips to mime the words. Catherine was easy to talk to, after all. And she was in a good mood, too, sitting on Rhea’s bed and humming a folk song to herself that was undoubtedly off-key. She was lovingly polishing Thunderbrand. Rhea put a hand on her shoulder, and Catherine turned around.

“Hi,” Catherine said.

Rhea laughed. “Hello.” Catherine was about to turn back to her blade, but Rhea squeezed her shoulder a bit, grabbing her attention. “I’m curious. How much do you remember about your time here at the academy? As a student?”

“A ton!” Catherine fully turned her body to Rhea, grinning. “What do you want to hear? I remember every prank I played on Seteth like it was yesterday!”

_Do you ever wonder why I haven’t aged a bit since you last saw me? Seteth, either?_ “Do you remember a monster hunt?”

“Huh! Funny that you ask. Seteth brought that up to me the other day. I don’t, really...I just remember you taking care of me, after I allegedly got myself into some hot water.”

“That’s the part I want to talk about,” Rhea said. “How...how much do you remember?”

“N-not much?” Catherine was starting to look unsure. Rhea didn’t want to push her, but she had to know. “Just...you were so gentle. Petting my hair, and stuff. And telling me it would be okay. It was really dark in the woods, but...the moon was full, right behind your head. And it made you glow. I really thought you were an angel, or a saint, or something. Like, Saint Seiros. I know it’s dumb, but—”

“And if it was?”

That was an impulsive response. And a confusing one, too. But Rhea was almost dumbfounded. Catherine _didn’t_ know she was Saint Seiros? It was just a fantasy? That made Rhea’s life a lot harder. Catherine wasn’t even catching on. “Good one. It wasn’t Saint Seiros. It was you, silly.”

“Y-yes, but...if Saint Seiros and I were the same person, then...”

Catherine scoffed. “Yeah. If only!”

“Cassandra.” Catherine’s face fell, turning oddly serious. “I-I want to be honest with you. I love you. Nothing makes me happier than being with you, and...I want you to know me for who I am. All that I am.”

“Rhea, you’ve got a horrible sense of humor.”

“This is no joke.”

“Yeah! I’m sure not laughing!”

Rhea thought Catherine would be upset at her for lying. She never imagined Catherine wouldn’t believe her in the first place. “How can I prove it to you?”

“Prove what?”

“I’m Saint Seiros. _I’m_ Seiros,” Rhea said. Those words...when was the last time she said them? “Have you never wondered why I bear her major Crest? Or why my birthday is on Saint Seiros Day? Or why I have her sword, her shield?”

Catherine stared at her for a moment, gears turning. Then, she mumbled, “Because you’re the archbishop.”

“No. That is _not_ why.”

Finally, it was starting to sink in. Catherine seemed to be putting two and two together, going through all of the signs in her head and trying to figure it out. Rhea held her breath waiting on an answer. “I...” _I hate you? I can’t believe you lied to me?_ “I thought you were supposed to be dead.”

“...No. I am not. It was safer, to say that I was.”

“Oh,” Catherine said.

Rhea let the silence settle over the room. Catherine didn’t seem upset, but confused. Overwhelmed. It was better than outright hatred, but Rhea felt anxious, just letting Catherine gawk at her. “D-do you have any other questions?”

“A lot, but...I can’t sort them out. Sorry.”

Rhea probably couldn’t sort out the answers, either. “I understand. And I understand if you feel differently about me as a result of this.”

“I don’t,” Catherine said, quickly. “I mean, you haven’t been faking a personality or anything this whole time, have you?”

Really, Rhea wasn’t sure. After centuries of keeping up appearances, she wasn’t sure which parts were Seiros, and which parts were Rhea. She wanted to say “no”, because she didn’t want to chase Catherine away, but...she had just told herself she’d match Catherine’s honesty, didn’t she? “I don’t believe so,” Rhea said, as truthfully as she could. “But, you have to understand, there are things I’ve had to keep secret, and that may have affected me as a result.”

“But you still hate tea?”

Rhea laughed despite herself. “What? Yes, I do.”

“And...you still care about the Goddess, right?”

_We’ll have to have the whole conversation about that another night, but the answer is simple._ “Yes.”

“You still love me, right?”

Oh. That tugged at Rhea’s heart, harder than she’d expected. “Catherine, of course I do.”

Catherine seemed to be forcing herself to relax. “Alright. We can work with this, then. It’s just me getting to know you a little better. Right? Right.”

“Right,” Rhea said. 

“So. I guess I oughta call you Seiros, now?”

“Well...not in front of others. Except Seteth, perhaps, and Flayn.”

“Woah, woah! Seteth? Flayn? They know?” 

Of course. Rhea forgot she had to explain that. There was a _lot_ to explain. Too much for one conversation. “Yes. After all, they’re also saints.” _I hope Seteth won’t be too upset with me for telling her._

“No kidding! Actually...I bet I know which ones,” Catherine said, seeming a bit proud of herself. “Cichol! And Cethleann! Right? Is that it? Wait—so Seteth is Flayn’s father? This is really all falling into place.”

“Yes, and—”

Rhea didn’t have the chance to explain more. Catherine was already going off on her own tangent. “Being alive that long...you guys must have seen a lot of stuff! All kinds of wars, and territories splitting and joining and splitting again, and—even farther than that...ah, sorry. Does that make you feel old?”

“Not at all. Really, it’s nice to talk with someone about it. Seteth doesn’t really like to, and Flayn is too fragile.”

“Too fragile? For what?”

“It’s...” Rhea stalled. Where to start? “It’s a lot. Fodlan is built...on the ruins of my people. Crests, and Heroes’ Relics—they’re all a vital part of society today, but nobody knows the truth behind it. Just me, and Seteth, and Flayn. It’s a long tale, and a brutal one at that. People take pride in their Crests, and, like you, in their Relics. But there’s a lot you don’t know. And I want to tell you all of it—but only if you wish to hear it.”

Catherine seemed unsure, but only for a second. She sat up straighter, nodding. “I do. Whatever you want to say, I’ll hear you out...Seiros.”

Rhea’s heart beat against her ribcage. Catherine reached forward and took her hand, smiling like she always did, looking at Rhea like she already knew it all. Seteth and Flayn didn’t call her that name anymore, not even in private. She had to hear it every day, in phrases of worship, in casual references, and sometimes, in whispered words of hatred. 

But Catherine, who bared herself and took her heart so bravely, choked out that name in what she thought would be her last words before she even knew what it meant. Catherine said that name with love and looked right into Rhea’s soul as she said it.

Seiros squeezed that hand, took a deep breath, and began to talk.


End file.
